I do not own any Naruto characters or settings. I only own my OCs, which include Musei Shiro.
This chapter does not contain any descriptions of blood or violence.
I hope you enjoy the story of Shiro, the Weeping Samurai of the Land of Iron!
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The chillness of the night coursed through her veins. The snow fell gently from the gray heavens, her glowing white hair catching some of the powder. The snowflakes were little forms of perfect tiny crystals, weaving intricate patterns with their frozen crystals; Shiro's face reflected the cold snow, equally pale and cold. Her black eyes stared off into the distance, unfocused and slightly fearful.
Pitch darkness plagued her sight, nothing but the weak beams of the thin crescent moon glowed in the white landscape. It was empty from anything save a few skinny trees, bare from the harsh winter that brought the snowfall upon them. Their skeletal branches reached across the icy air like hands, their bony fingers layered in a thin sheet of white.
Shiro blinked her eyes a few times before she gazing around, letting the darkness seep into her sight. The girl's breath was released in a white cloud of steam with every exhale, her throat burning as she sucked in the frightfully freezing air back in. Her pale skin seemed to glow like the snow on the ground, her white hair even more pale. The landscape was empty for a little while, the haunting silence numbing her ears as the cold stabbed her chilled skin like a thousand needles.
A strong wind gusted through the plain, swiping Shiro's shimmering white hair to the side. Her eyes flickered to the side, not expecting to see anything but bare trees. Instead, she was sent back with a hard kick to her side.
Her frail skinny body tumbled in the snow, the crystals stabbing into her skin as she skidded face-down on the ground. She let out a little grunt, dazed as she frantically tried to understand what was going on. The fear that embedded inside of her suddenly liquidated and a stone of fury lodged inside her chest. Her brow furrowed and Shiro pushed herself up from the ground, launching herself at her attacker. Her bony hand was scrunched up into a tight fist, stretched back and ready to make contact with skin.
Her onyx eyes widened as she saw the identity of the person before her.
“Y...Yoru...?” Shiro's voice trembled as she gasped.
“Yo...Neechan.”
The girl standing before her looked something of a beautiful assassin. Her night-black hair was considerably longer, seeming to fall to the bottom of her ribcage. Some of the dark locks though were pulled back into one long tail with some shorter hair framing her more mature, heart-shaped face. Her silver-gray eyes shimmered like metallic iron in the pale moonlight; her skin was just as pale as her elder sister's. A smirk adorned her ivory face, her glossy red lips curving up venomously.
“W...where have you been?” Shiro's pale face lit up, a sincere smile spreading across her usually depressed features. “I've been worried sick! How did you manage to escape from Orochimaru?”
“Escape?” The younger girl raised a slim eyebrow. “I didn't escape. Why would I ever escape from him?”
Shiro's smile dissipated from her face.
“Then...why are you here?”
“Isn't it obvious?” Yoru's features glowered down at her sister. “I've come here to kill you.”
Shiro's onyx eyes grew even wider, her mouth hanging slightly ajar from shock.
“Kill me?” she whimpered. “Why would you kill me? I'm trying to save you, Yoru!”
Yoru's slender fingers grasped beside her in the darkness, closing around a certain object Shiro could not see. It was only when she slashed the thing around when Shiro saw the single glinting blade, black as night and deadly as poison. Her eyes reflected a sort of loathing, a certain hatred that burned almost as passionate as her elder sister's.
“Prepare to die, Shiro.”
The black-haired girl lashed out her blade before advancing upon Shiro, who still sat frozen in place on the powdery snow.
~~~*~~~
Shiro sat up with a scream. Her chest heaved as she blinked frantically, large hot tears escaping from the corners of her eyes. Her shoulders shook from sobbing, her pale face scrunched up in agony as she buried it inside her palms.
Kisame and Itachi were already up, and when they heard her scream, they rushed to her side.
“Musei-san?” Itachi called to her as he knelt beside the weeping girl.
“Now what could a girl like you be crying about this early in the morning?” Kisame growled as he raised an eyebrow. “Are the ghosts of the people you killed last night haunting you already?”
Shiro's crying suddenly halted. Not even a sniffle was made when she slowly lifted her head from her hands to glare at the giant shinobi.
“Those people mean nothing to me,” she rumbled deeply, staring into Kisame's black beady eyes. “People as insignificant as them could never haunt my dreams.”
The large shinobi just scoffed.
“Minimun bloodshed is required, huh?”
Shiro stared at him with a horrifically plain gaze.
“There are things even I cannot keep.”
With that, she rose from her spot and headed towards the bathroom where she got ready, leaving two very dazed ninja in her wake.
Her bed mat was folded back up, her blanket rolled neatly and set to the side, and her white katana sheaths along with her bamboo pipe tied around her slim waist, Shiro slipped on her black flats as she clipped on her black cloak.
“Shall we get going then?” the white-haired samurai growled back at the two shinobi behind her.
They just stared at her until Kisame shrugged and slung his Samehada on his large back, following her out of the room. Itachi followed behind, his crimson eyes wary and suspicious from last night's encounter.
Her blades had been wiped clean from all of the blood that had been shed, unstained and perfect as freshly fallen snow. The bodies were disposed of by Itachi's Fire Ball Jutsu, reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes to be blown off by the wind. Her face though, was something that disturbed him the most.
Ravenous and succumbed to such violence, the bloodshed seemed to have pleased her. Her smile that stretched thin across her pale face, the laugh she was holding back surely was real. Now, she was completely plain from anything that happened, unfazed and untouched by the horrors of killing. The transition for him was too sudden, too quick, so inhuman that it scared him.
The trio reached the entrance of the resort; the surroundings were so eerie and quiet Itachi wondered if he wasn't in some kind of genjutsu. He wasn't though, as his Sharingan saw through any kind of deception. Either way, due to Shiro's naïve reaction towards his Chakra and jutsu talk last night, she certainly wouldn't be able to do something as complicated as a genjutsu this sort of level. The fact was, all of the employees have been murdered, and nothing but the wind whistled in their ears.
Shiro stopped in her tracks a couple meters after stepping out of the resort. Her head turned back a little, her tiny nose peeking from the long thick curtain of her white hair.
“Which way to the Land of Fire?” she asked in a grim tone; her face was once again plagued by the emotionless state of the infamous Shidare no Bushi.
“Southeast, towards the Land of Grass,” Itachi murmured as he walked up beside her. “That's our next destination.”
“How big is the Land of Earth exactly?” Shiro mumbled in a bleak tone.
“It'll take about a week to trek across,” Itachi muttered. “If Kisame stops insisting we stop at every hot spring resort there is.”
“They're so relaxing,” Kisame chuckled, smirking. “The road takes an awful toll on me; I've got to unwind with every opportunity I get, Itachi-san.”
“Even so,” the raven-haired ninja started walking again, pulling out his conical bamboo hat from under his Akatsuki cloak, “we have a deal to fulfill.”
“Che,” Kisame scoffed, following behind Shiro with his large arms crossed over his giant chest. “You really know how to be a kill-joy, don't you Itachi-san?”
“I'm just trying to get the deal finished with,” his partner murmured in reply.
Shiro just set her eyes in front of her, itching on the inside to just sprint forward and find this damned hideout already. Yoru was somewhere out there, alive and being held in some kind of fort by this Orochimaru man.
The group walked for an our in silence, Kisame taking the back as Itachi led the way. Shiro stood in the middle, her sheaths patting against her thighs as she walked. Her cloak fluttered slightly as she traveled, her white kimono rippling underneath. The wind ruffled her long hair that seemed to stand out like a patch of snow in the middle of a desert, her unforgiving dark eyes glowering in the high sun that loomed over them.
Soon enough, she found her cloak to be cumbersome and troubling. Seeing as she had no use for it now she will be traveling in warmer countries, Shiro shed the mass of fabric and asked Itachi to burn it for her.
“If there are any trackers or bounty hunters after me,” she explained, “I wouldn't want them to have an easy lead such as my cloak I've been wearing for over two years.”
Itachi agreed and disintegrated the cloak with his Fire Ball Jutsu, Shiro watching it burn into ashes with the same blank expression she always wore; her relentless porcelain mask.
With the cloak incinerated and Shiro able to move her arms to her own freewill, the three went on their way again with their easy trek.
“Itachi-san,” Shiro called to the shinobi in front of her after another hour of silent walking.
“Mm? What is it?” he asked, his head slightly turned around.
“Now that I have had some time to think,” she started, her eyes plain, “I've heard of you before. Even in samurai country certain ninja are known for such things like yours. Is it true you murdered your entire clan?”
Itachi stopped head in his tracks. Shiro almost bumped into him as she dug her heel into the ground, her hands in front of her just in case she came into contact with the taller shinobi.
“Itachi-san?”
“Musei-san,” Itachi started.
“You may call me by my first name.” Shiro blinked.
There was a slight pause.
“Shiro-san, then.” Itachi nodded once, his neck a bit tense. “Yes, it is true I caused the Uchiha Massacre. For this reason I ran away from Konoha and became a missing-nin.”
“I see.” Shiro stared up at him in lowered eyes. “So you're a murderer too.”
“We've all killed in our lifetimes,” Itachi said simply in his deep voice. “Whether is was intentional or not. Whether it was to our own choices or not.”
Shiro continued to stare up at the ninja, her slim face covered in her emotionless mask. After a little bit, Itachi began his pace again, walking at a moderate speed.
The road ahead was indeed barren, only filled with jagged rock landforms and a dusty dirt road to travel upon. Occasionally they would pass by a skinny tree with some leaves attached to its slim branches, waving peacefully in the gentle breeze that blew across the land. Shiro would look up at it in a secret wonder, her porcelain mask still unscathed, wishing that some day a peace would run through her like how the wind gracefully made the leaves dance against the blue sky.
The sky was something else she hadn't experienced much; so blue and so clear it almost made her heart leap. Such a blue was her favorite color, a splash of such brightness it could be interpreted as joy or sadness; it was a neutral color with more depth and meaning than black or white or gray.
Kisame saw her head wander from side to side, drinking in the sight as they walked through the land. He let out a smirk as he witnessed such curiosity and innocence from such a murderous legend; it actually just amused him quite a bit.
Further up the path after another chunk of time had passed, the trio met with a fork in the road. There, two figures dressed in inauspicious black cloaks stood, their faces shaded by a long dark hoods. The bottom of their cloaks fluttered slightly in the wind, oddly cool in the hot afternoon sun. In a black gloved hand, the taller of the two figures held a thick dark green scroll, tightly bound and crisp. The other shade stood with its hands dangling by its sides, seeming to stare at the ground; Shiro though could see the pair of glimmering crimson orbs that glowed under the darkness.
Itachi stopped just as he approached five meters from the two grim people, his dark eyes shifting to scarlet as he let out a low, almost threatening growl.
“Who are you?”
Kisame's arm stiffened as he towered behind Shiro, his fingers twitching as he readied himself to grasp the hilt of the gargantuan sword that rested on his back. The white-haired girl herself just blinked, her face cold as ice and hard as metal. Her slim, pale hand hovered over Raiha, just waiting to unsheathe the white serpent that slumbered inside the thin scabbard. Her dark eyes stormed up a grim fogginess against her paper-white face, still managing to keep a wiped expression.
“We're just travelers,” replied the taller hooded figure, his voice male and deep. “Just like you.”
“So I see.” Itachi blinked his crimson eyes, dripping with venom. “And I expect you have something to say to us? You haven't moved an inch since you came into our view fifteen minutes ago.”
“We rarely see other travelers around anymore,” the man said, his tone hinting that he was smirking under his hood. “We thought it would be kind as to give you our spare map. It's a little out dated, but seeming as you're taking this road, it looks like you don't have one yourself.”
The trio stared at the two hooded figures for another moment before Itachi grunted and stepped forward, leaving Shiro and Kisame behind. He held out his hand for the green scroll, which the suspicious man gave to him without hesitaiton. The Akatsuki nin then hovered for a little bit, looking down at the new map that didn't even have a crease, before floating back to his waiting teammates.
“Arigato,” he said simply as he tucked the scroll in his thick cloak. “We'll put this to good use.”
“Where are you headed?” the hooded man asked, clasping his arms together in his big sleeves. “I expect somewhere minor and poor since you're on a small dirt road such as this one.”
“The Land of Rice Paddies,” Itachi murmured, his conical hat shielding his glowing eyes. “We're on a sort of errand, if you wish.”
“Ahh,” the man chuckled, turning to his partner. “An errand they say. Don't you think that's quite amusing, pet?”
Shiro almost broke her mask, her eyebrow threatening to twitch up as she heard the man call his partner “pet.”
“Hai, quite comical, Yamamoto-sama,” the girl on his right agreed, her voice distant and low as a panther's purr.
“What kind of errand would force you onto this dreaded road?”
Yamamoto's shoulders shook as his chuckles turned into chortles.
“It's none of your business anyhow.” Itachi motioned for Kisame and Shiro to follow him as he veered to the side to take the path on the right. The large shinobi passed Shiro as she lingered a little, eying the strange man. She tailed behind Kisame though, quietly allowing the Akatsuki team to lead her to her destination. With a map now, things will definitely be easier to locate.
As Itachi brushed past the man's broad shoulder, the stranger let out an ominous chuckle.
“You don't happen to be in search of Orochimaru's hideout, do you?”
Itachi stopped in place, Kisame doing the same, as they glowered down at the hooded man with a hidden disbelief. Yamamoto took the sudden silence as a confirmation.
“If you give me the map again,” he said playfully as his shoulders shook in amusement, “I'll be more than happy to pinpoint his lair on it for you.”
Shiro sensed Itachi's eye peering back at her, to which she nodded once as she continued to stare at the mysterious Yamamoto. The ninja hesitated a bit, but decided this would be the only chance they could get in having a clue on where Orochimaru's hideout was. He pulled the perfect little scroll out from his cloak and slowly handed it over to Yamamoto, keeping his eyes burning into the man.
Yamamoto took the scroll lightheartedly, extending his right hand out to the girl beside him as a gesture to give him something. She immediately pulled out a small bamboo brush as well as an inkstone and inkstick. She uncapped a small vial of water and dripped two drops inside the inkstone mortar, proceeding to grind the inkstick inside the liquid. Once the water thickened into ink, Yamamoto swiped the end of the soft brush inside the liquid, swirling it around the mortar until all of the ink had absorbed into the brush. The girl then helped him untie the scroll and rolled it out for him on the ground.
The map was magnificent indeed. It was certainly new, the crisp paper untouched by any other besides the hooded girl. Yamamoto crouched down next to her and his hand disappeared under the hood, probably to scratch his chin. He then placed the brush down onto a certain spot above the Land of Fire, creating a thick dot and marking it with the kanji “隠れ家,” or “hideout.”
“It's buried deep inside the forest of the Land of Rice Paddies,” Yamamoto explained, “hidden by tall trees and thick foliage. Travel to the Land of Grass first, then to the Land of Fire. There, you'll go up a path leading into the Rice Paddies and straight towards the Village Hidden in the Sound. From there though, you'll have to trail blaze and find the hideout on your own.”
Itachi, Kisame, and Shiro, who pushed her way through the two men, scoured their eyes over the map, Yamamoto's directions echoing in their minds.
“We appreciate your help,” Shiro said bleakly as she blinked over the scroll. “Your aid will be for a great cau – ”
There was a puff of scarlet smoke, startling even Shiro. The group took a step back as a thick crimson cloud floated towards them. It only took a minute for the smoke to clear, but by the time the redness melted into the cool air, the two cloaked figures had gone.
Shiro took a step forward, her brows furrowing, breaking her porcelain mask as she glanced around in confusion. The mountains were clear and no shadows tainted the empty space. It was only when she tilted her head down she saw three pairs of plate-sized paw prints, imprinted cleanly in the dust.
~~~*~~~
I apologize again for this late chapter, but I'm really trying to post these up as soon as possible!
Comment on what you think of the chapter, and don't forget to vote and remember to follow me for more chapters to come! And as always, thanks for reading!